


Walking After Midnight

by hollycomb



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 04:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollycomb/pseuds/hollycomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crew is on Earth for the holiday season. Kirk is lonely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking After Midnight

The first couple of days are great, blissfully empty. Jim gets a room at a hotel on the Gulf Coast, on the 52nd floor. Girls at the beachfront bar recognize him, but he's not even ready for that much responsibility yet. He sits on the beach and stares at the ocean. Nobody asks him for anything. There are no decisions to make, no courses to approve, no schedules to rearrange. Somewhere, of course, lives are still hanging in the balance, wars between rival alien races are raging on, but that's all far away, and for two days, it actually feels that way, as if it's none of his business.   
  
On the third night he can't sleep, so he goes down to the bar. There's nobody around except an Orion girl on vacation. Her first trip to Earth, and her friends have all paired off with locals. She's had too much to drink and she's heard of the _Enterprise_ but not the _Kelvin_. Maybe Jim has had too much to drink, too, because he's talking about his father. She stares at him like she's waiting for the punchline, nodding and chewing on the end of her straw, clearly not sure if she should smile or pout sympathetically. They have sex in Jim's room and she snores while he watches the news with the data screen muted. There's a story about a local children's pageant, real old-fashioned stuff, kids in white robes with tinsel halos, and that's when Jim remembers that it's three days from Christmas.  
  
The walls start to close in around dawn. The Orion girl -- Mia, but for some reason he doesn't get the impression that it's her real name -- leaves early, giggling around an excuse about meeting her girlfriends for breakfast. Jim checks out of the hotel that morning, embarrassed. He goes to Iowa, calls his mother from the transport station; no answer. She works nonstop since her divorce, always in space. Jim can hardly judge her for that: He knows what it's like to feel itchy when his feet are on solid ground. He rents a hover bike and rides around for awhile, not sure what he's looking for. Snow, maybe? He remembers the first time he saw snow, that winter when they moved to Iowa to live with Frank. It was like the first time he saw the stars from space, dizzying and steadying all at once. He thinks of going north, to Maine or something, but then he just calls Spock.  
  
"Could I come by?" he says to Uhura, who answers. Jim remembers learning that Uhura and Spock were together and feeling betrayed, but he didn't realize why for years. They have each other and don't really need him. They could run the ship without him, maybe, most days. When Uhura got pregnant he was stupidly jealous of their baby.  
  
"Come by?" she says. Jim can hear the baby wailing in the background, and the noise of Uhura's large family, who are meeting their grandson, nephew, cousin for the first time.   
  
"Is Spock there?" Jim asks, because he'll understand this better than she can.   
  
"What's wrong?" Uhura asks. The background noise quiets, as if she's moved to a different room.  
  
"Nothing's wrong. I just. It's Christmas."  
  
"Christmas? Since when are you a sentimentalist?"  
  
"Not everyone who celebrates holidays is a sentimentalist."  
  
"That's the exact definition of a sentimentalist, last time I checked."  
  
"Fine, fuck, I'm sorry I wanted to see you guys. Jesus."  
  
"You've got a dirty mouth when you're off duty, Captain."  
  
"Sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities, Lieutenant." Sometimes Jim still flirts with her. Spock usually doesn't notice. Uhura is kinder about it than she used to be, which worries him.  
  
"Come by if you want to," Uhura says. "We've got plenty of food."  
  
"And a Christmas tree? Presents?" Jim's mother never celebrated, but some of the kids who went to his school did. It was something to brag about, an extravagance.  
  
"No tree, no presents," Uhura says. "Food, though. Real food, non-replicated. That's part of it, isn't it?"  
  
"A big part," Jim says. "But I -- I wasn't serious. I won't come."  
  
"Why won't you? No, do come. Spock will be glad to have you here, to have an ally. He's a little overwhelmed, I think."  
  
"Spock, overwhelmed?"  
  
"It happens. Come, Jim, he'd love it."  
  
"No, listen, I was just pulling your chain. It's only been four days."  
  
Uhura says nothing for awhile, and it's a heavy silence. She and Spock have always seen through Jim, though in completely different ways.   
  
"Your mother?" she says.  
  
"Off planet. It's okay."  
  
"Hmm. I guess that's where you Kirks are happiest?"  
  
"I guess so."   
  
"Not like Spock and I are any different."  
  
"Maybe it'll be different now that you've got the baby." His name is Tagok and he was born in space, like Jim. He's got Spock's regal jawline and Uhura's sharp eyes.   
  
"You won't lose us, Captain," Uhura says. "A lot of couples raise their children in space these days."  
  
"These days," Jim mutters, not sure what he means. He wishes he'd been raised in space, by his father and mother, a nursery with a view of the stars.  
  
"Here," Uhura says. "Talk to Spock."  
  
The communicator changes hands, and Jim can hear the slightly calmer push of Spock's breath against the receiver.   
  
"Captain," he says. Jim has learned to hear the distinction in his voice, the change when he's talking to Jim purely as a friend.   
  
"Hey," Jim says. "How are you holding up with the family?" Spock has met Uhura's family before, and it didn't go very well. They objected to the fact that he seduced her while she was his pupil, though Uhura rightly insisted that it was the other way around.   
  
"Relations between myself and Nyota's family are satisfactory so far, Captain."  
  
"Only satisfactory?"  
  
"It would be accurate to describe the relations as pleasant, sir. I believe that the introduction of our son has eased the tension somewhat."  
  
"I'll bet it has." Jim sometimes thinks about what it would be like to have a son. He's afraid to be a father, since he never had one himself. It's not like he hasn't got enough responsibility already. His crew is his family, until they all go home on a hiatus like this one, leaving Jim the odd man out.  
  
"Please excuse me for a moment, Captain," Spock says. "Nyota is trying to communicate something with hand signals and her meaning is unclear."   
  
Jim snorts. He can imagine Uhura motioning for Spock to invite Jim to come and stay with them, but it would be ridiculous. Anyway, he'd be upstaged by the baby.   
  
"Tell Nyota I'm fine," Jim says. "I just wanted to check in on you two."  
  
"I assure you, Captain, everything here is well in hand."   
  
"I'm sure. You two have a nice holiday -- enjoy the food."  
  
"I will attempt to, Captain."  
  
"'Atta boy, Spock."  
  
Jim snaps his communicator shut and heads back to the transport station. It's crowded, the security lines winding around the walls by the front doors and the troubleshooting office overflowing with angry travelers who lost mittens or jewelry or neckties during transport. It happens. One of the great mysteries of the universe.   
  
He gets in line at security and watches the data screens that look down over the crowd, playing news stories and flashing warnings about electrical storms and other phenomena that might interfere with transport travel.   
  
"Where to?" a tired-looking woman at platform 17 asks when Jim has finally reached the departure area.  
  
"Atlanta, Georgia," Kirk says. He can always count on Bones to cheer him up when he's feeling adrift on Earth. He grins, picturing Bones in his condo in the city, standing at the window with a whiskey and ranting about sentimentalists. He beams to the center of the city, the arrival station even more crowded than the one he left. He fights his way through the crowd and gets on the train, which has a stop in the basement of Bones' building. Jim has been here before, between missions, has slept on Bones' couch and gotten drunk with him after hockey games. He's smiling at his reflection in the mirrored elevator on the way up to Bones' condo, glad that he came. Some quality time with Bones is exactly what he needs.  
  
"Jim," Bones says with surprise when he pulls the door open. "What -- uh?"  
  
"I was in the neighborhood," Jim says, joking. He pats Bones' arm as he walks inside, and laughs out loud when he sees a little Christmas tree on the bar that looks into Bones' black-marble kitchen, sparkling with lights and handmade ornaments.  
  
"Bones, what the -- oh," Jim says when he sees Bones daughter Joanna, standing in the middle of the kitchen and holding a wooden spoon, licking cookie dough from it.  
  
"Jim, you've met my daughter," Bones says. He sounds annoyed, and Jim feels horrible for intruding. Joanna is fourteen and her relationship with her father is a bit strained, so Bones treats the rare time he gets to spend with her like sensitive missions to negotiate with hostile alien governments.  
  
"Hey, Jo," Jim says, waving. She gives him a tight little smile.   
  
"Hello," she says. "Dad -- are you going out?"  
  
"No, no, Bones and I don't have any plans," Jim says. "I was just -- dropping by to say Merry Christmas."  
  
"You celebrate, too?" Joanna says, smiling. It's a trend among her generation, rediscovering the old holidays.   
  
"Sometimes." Jim gives Bones an apologetic look. Bones sighs.  
  
"Stay and have some cookies," he says.  
  
"Oh, no, I don't, I just ate." Jim is already backing toward the door.   
  
"Jim, stay, it's alright."   
  
"Nah, actually, I really was just stopping in, you see, uh. You know, Chekov invited me to stay with him and Sulu during the holiday, so."  
  
"They celebrate?" Bones says with a look of disbelief.   
  
"Well -- Chekov's Jewish, so. They've got that whole Hanukkah thing going on."  
  
"Didn't Hanukkah end two weeks ago?" Joanna asks.  
  
"Sure, but, you know, we just got back, so they're celebrating now. Anyway, they wanted to see me. So I've got to go. I'll see you later, Jo, you have yourself a nice Christmas."  
  
Jim walks out into the hallway and Bones follows, groaning under his breath. He catches Jim's arm before he can head to the elevators.  
  
"Hey," he says. "You alright?"  
  
Jim laughs. "Um, yeah? What makes you think I'm not?"  
  
"Maybe you came here -- looking for some company --"  
  
"Bones, no, I don't want to intrude, I know how important this is to you, spending time with her, and she didn't exactly look happy to see your work buddy walk through the door."  
  
"You're not just my work buddy, Jim." Bones' hand tightens on Jim's arm, and Jim swallows heavily.   
  
"Yeah, I'm also your fuck buddy, on occasion," Jim says, keeping his voice low and attempting to laugh it off. Bones frowns.   
  
"Don't be an asshole," he says. "Are you really -- did those two really invite you to stay with them?"  
  
"Why's that so hard to believe?"  
  
"It's not, it's just -- whenever we're on shore leave they tend to disappear together like they don't want anything to do with the rest of us off-ship."  
  
"That's shore leave. It's different! Anyway, Bones, don't worry about me."  
  
"I've only got Jo for a few more days," Bones says. "Come by after that." He gives Jim's arm a little squeeze before releasing it. Jim looks away, toward the elevators. He wishes he hadn't screwed up his friendship with Bones by sleeping with him, and then doing it again, and again, and again. There's an awkwardness between them, now. Jim doesn't do well with this whole romantic entanglement thing, and the way that Bones has always seen straight through him never bothered him when they were just friends.   
  
"Sure, I'll come by later," Jim says. He won't. He doesn't want to look like an idiot who's desperate for company. He gets on the elevator and gives Bones a wave and a smile. Bones is still frowning, staring at him with concern as the doors slide shut, but Jim knows Bones will forget all about this as soon as he's back in there with his daughter, making cookies and trimming the tree.   
  
He teleports to San Francisco just so that Bones won't know he lied about going to see Sulu and Chekov. The address of the house Sulu keeps in San Francisco is Federation record, and Kirk feels a little lame looking it up, but the thought of Bones finding out that he was really going off to mope by himself is more humiliating than showing up on Sulu's doorstep unannounced.  
  
Chekov answers the door, looking as if he bounded there in two giant leaps, smiling and bouncy as ever. His hair is unruly and his cheeks are rosy, and Jim really hopes he's not interrupting anything.   
  
" _Keptin_!" Chekov says, unchecked shock breaking across his features.   
  
"Very funny," Sulu mutters from somewhere within.   
  
"Hey, Pavel," Kirk says, shuffling on the doorstep. He hears Sulu suddenly moving about like a startled bird, and what might be the sound of a zipper.  
  
"Is something wrong, _Keptin_?" Chekov asks, still holding on to the door. "Have we been called back to the _Enterprise_?"  
  
"No, no, I just -- I'm visiting all the bridge crew. You know. For the holidays."  
  
Chekov stares as if he has no idea what holidays Jim is talking about, and Sulu appears behind him, looking annoyed, his hair sticking up awkwardly. Jim has caught them in this state before, but it's never bothered him until now; he's never felt like such an unwanted intruder.  
  
"Well, come in," Sulu says. "It's about to rain."  
  
He's right; it's cold and windy outside, the smell of moisture in the air. Sulu's little cottage is on the outskirts of town, relatively secluded, nestled on a hillside that overlooks the bay. It's warm and dark inside, only the fire in the fireplace and a few candles burning on the mantle until Sulu flips on a lamp near the sofa. Jim puts his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward. There's a mussed flannel blanket on the sofa, and he can pretty clearly picture the scene before he showed up at the door.   
  
"Can we get you a drink, _Keptin_?" Chekov asks.   
  
"Sure. Is that a real fire? Smells like one."  
  
"Yep," Sulu says. "Not as easy as the synthetic stuff, but I think it's worth the hassle."  
  
"He chopped the wood himself," Chekov says, sounding so dreamy that Jim has to bite his tongue to keep from cracking up. "I helped," Chekov adds. He's hanging on Sulu's arm and staring up at him with that admiring gaze that Jim has been jealous of since he first noticed it.   
  
"What do you want to drink?" Sulu asks, moving into the kitchen. Chekov follows, of course, and Jim sighs under his breath. He certainly has people on the ship who would be willing to act like this for him, to cling and admire and give him doe-eyed smiles. He's never interested until he sees other people behaving this way, as if they can't live without each other. He certainly doesn't want that from Bones, not that Bones would ever offer it.   
  
"Whiskey sounds good if you've got it," Jim says, and Sulu laughs.   
  
"No whiskey, I'm afraid, unless you want me to replicate some."  
  
" _Nyet_ , Hikaru!" Chekov says, fetching a bottle from a cabinet over the refrigerator. "Look, _Keptin_ , real vodka, from Russia, sent by my uncle as a present. Very top quality, you will like it much better than replicated whiskey."  
  
They sit around the fire with their drinks, Sulu looking dazed and Chekov cheerful and talkative, asking Jim question after question, like always. He doesn't seem to be affected by the vodka at all, though he drinks plenty of it. Jim is starting to feel sleepy and wondering about where he's going to stay tonight. The rain has started outside, blowing hard against the windows. He walked here from the transport station, all the way across the Golden Gate Bridge, and he really doesn't need to be hanging around on any bridges right now.  
  
"Do you need to crash here?" Sulu finally asks, as Jim is yawning on the sofa.  
  
"No, that's alright, I don't want to intrude," Jim says, though he does, he wants to stay here inside their little love cocoon, sleep between them in their bed, make breakfast for them in the morning. He wants to do all of this without having to worry about how he'll sustain it or what it means for his life, just wants to hide inside the warmth of someone else's love story for awhile. Someone else's family.  
  
"Nonsense, you can't go," Chekov says. "Just sleep there, on the sofa."   
  
"I'm such a charity case," Jim says, incredibly drunk and laughing at himself, his head lolling back on the cushions.  
  
"Yeah, but you're our charity case," Sulu says. "So stay."   
  
"You guys," Jim says, blinking heavily. "Are so great."  
  
Sulu laughs, and Jim lets his eyes fall shut, his hand opening around his glass, which is empty and resting on the sofa beside him. He takes a deep breath and then relaxes, the smell of the fire that's burned down to embers making him feel like maybe he actually belongs here, as if this is what he's been looking for, the cure for his restlessness.  
  
"Is he asleep?" Sulu whispers.  
  
"I think so," Chekov says. He walks over and takes the glass from Jim's hand, then kneels down and begins untying one of Jim's boots. Jim pretends to be asleep, which is hard when Sulu comes over to untie the other boot, a smile threatening at the corner of Jim's mouth. His eyes are closed, but just the mental picture of Chekov and Sulu taking off his boots for him is too adorable to bear. He allows a brief fantasy about the two of them as his slaves in some mirror universe, ready to undress and glue themselves to his sides.   
  
"Poor _Keptin_ ," Chekov says, guiding Jim down onto the sofa while Sulu hoists his legs up onto it.   
  
"What the hell's wrong with him?" Sulu asks.   
  
"Don't you know, Hikaru? The _Keptin_ is all alone during the holiday time."  
  
"Well, he's kind of famous. If he wants company, all he has to do is walk into some bar."  
  
" _Tsk_! Hikaru! That would only make him more lonely. He wants his loved ones around him at this time."  
  
"Uh. We're his loved ones?"  
  
" _Da_ , of course! We spent five years together on mission, yes? We are like family to each other."  
  
"I guess you're right." One of them drapes a blanket over Jim, who is clenching his teeth, wishing he was drunk enough to have passed out already so he could have missed this discussion of his delicate psyche.   
  
"Hey, c'mere," Sulu says. Jim hears the wet sound of a little kiss. "This would be me without you, you know. Our friends from the ship are great, but you're my real family."  
  
They kiss again; Jim can hear their hard breath, the kind that gets pushed into someone else's mouth. Chekov giggles a little, and then they're gone, a door shutting softly somewhere. Jim keeps his eyes shut, and falls asleep to the sound of them fucking in some other room, apparently so certain that he's passed out drunk that they're not worried about keeping quiet. Mostly he hears the bed jerking against the wall, Sulu saying _God, Pavel, fuck, yeah_ and Chekov just letting lose a stream of _oh, oh, oh_ , as if even after five years of sharing a room having Sulu in him is still a little surprising.  
  
Jim dreams that he's brave and stupid enough to get up from the sofa and join them, and in the dream they accept him into their bed without question, Chekov petting him and cooing in one ear while Sulu licks and bites at the other. Things progress from there, and Jim wakes up with his boxers cold and wet after dreaming about Chekov and Sulu taking turns licking long stripes up the underside of his cock. He groans, embarrassed and uncomfortable, his head pounding. The house has gone quiet, the fire dead, everything dark and the rain still pounding the roof outside. Jim is freezing, and he wonders why Sulu's kept the temperature controls so damn low before remembering that he has Chekov and a post-sex flush to keep him warm.   
  
Jim goes into the bathroom to clean himself up and take some medicine for his headache. He squints at himself in the mirror over the sink, marveling at how old and used up he looks already. He doesn't feel this way in space, not at all. He doesn't dream about sneaking into Sulu and Chekov's bed, just happily grants their requests to have their shifts and shore leaves together. He doesn't get freaked out by Bones and his all-knowing glances, just winks back at him and takes him to bed when he feels like it. He doesn't get jealous of babies.   
  
As he puts on his jacket he tries to stop feeling sorry for himself; he'll be back in space in two weeks, with all of these people who depend on him when they're up there. Two weeks isn't so long. He'll take naps and watch television. He'll figure something out.   
  
He leaves the house and walks out into the rain, not really sure which direction he should be headed in. He's got people for that, in space, he's got Chekov to tell him where to go and Sulu to get them there. Jim just has to arrive, and when he does he always figures out what to do, maybe more quickly than anyone else could. He tries to feel good about that, here on Earth, where he's never known where to start.   
  
A car pulls up alongside him as he walks along the road, down the hill, away from Sulu's cottage. Jim shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, hoping that whoever is in this car that is slowing down to match his pace won't try to fuck with him. He's really not in the mood, just wants to keep walking through the rain and shivering, nothing to think about but how cold he is.   
  
"Jim!" someone calls, and Jim knows that voice. He looks up and sees Spock staring at him from the driver's seat, but it's not Jim's Spock, it's the Spock from the alternative universe. Which is such a weird thought to have on the side of the road in the driving rain that Jim laughs out loud.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" Jim shouts over the rain.   
  
"Please, get in," Spock says. "I've come to see you."  
  
"How'd you know I'd be here?"  
  
"I was told that your friend Dr. McCoy would be able to inform me of your whereabouts, and he told me that you were with Lieutenant Sulu and Ensign Chekov. I was on my way up to their house."  
  
"Spock, it's the middle of the night. What's going on?"  
  
"Please, Jim, come out of the rain and I'll explain."  
  
Jim is glad to get into the car, which is warm and dry, one of the older hover models. It's of course immaculately clean, just like Jim's Spock keeps his quarters on the Enterprise. Seeing this Spock makes Jim lonely for his own, who is so constantly at Jim's side while they're in space that Jim isn't sure how he found time to make Uhura pregnant.   
  
"So what the heck's going on?" Jim asks as Spock turns the car around and heads back down the hill.   
  
"I thought you might like some company during your time on Earth," Spock says. "You always had a bit of – trouble with that, when I knew you. The other you, that is, the version that existed in my timeline."   
  
"Well – okay – but Bones told you I was with Sulu and Chekov."  
  
"Yes, and I drove here to find you walking alone in the rain."   
  
Jim groans and puts his hands over his face. "What are you trying to do? Impress me with how well you know me – the other me, anyway?"  
  
"No, Jim, that is not what I'm trying to do. I'm here in San Francisco for a lecture series I'm giving at the Academy, and I must confess that I became accustomed to spending Earth holidays with you during our friendship, and that it occurred to me that you might be wanting some companionship as well. I thought that if the Lieutenant Sulu and Ensign Chekov of your time are anything like the ones from my time, spending the holiday with them might only exacerbate your feelings of isolation."  
  
"What – wait, Sulu and Chekov were together in your timeline, too?"  
  
"Yes, they even married eventually."  
  
"No shit! I'll have to tell them. They'll get a kick out of that."  
  
Jim spends the remainder of the drive asking Spock questions about his timeline and Spock answers patiently. He seems almost jolly in comparison to Jim's Spock, just as he did when he and Jim first met, despite the circumstances. Jim imagines that it must be amusing, and disturbing, to end up in an alternate reality and see the people you knew young again.   
  
"So I'm dead in your reality, right?" Jim asks. He's pretty certain about this, but he's always felt weird about asking.  
  
Spock's quiet cheer seems to die off and Jim feels bad for the question. He and this Spock were best friends in his reality, after all. Jim and his Spock are great friends, too, but Jim gets the impression that it was somewhat different between him and Spock in the alternate timeline. This Spock has told him already that in his own timeline he did not marry Uhura or father any children.  
  
"Yes," Spock says. "In my timeline, you have been dead for many years."  
  
"God, that's a creepy thought. Am I allowed to ask you how I died?"  
  
"I would rather that you didn't." Spock stares straight ahead through the windshield, and Jim reaches over to pat his leg, which seems to surprise him.  
  
"Thanks for coming to get me," Jim says. "You're a good friend."  
  
They go back to the apartment Spock is renting near the Academy, and just being in the neighborhood brings back memories; Jim rented an apartment around here with Bones, once. Spock's place is small but cozy, and Jim has a hot shower before dressing in dry clothes from the replicator. When he emerges from the bathroom Spock is in the kitchen making tea.   
  
"It must seem weird to you, all this fuss humans make over these old holidays," Jim says. "Human nostalgia in general."  
  
"Vulcans have a sense of nostalgia, too, Jim," Spock says, "Even if we don't choose to express it through tinsel and lights."  
  
"So what are you nostalgic about?" Jim asks, grinning. Spock looks up at him with a sad little smile, and Jim searches for traces of his young friend's face in the elder Spock's features. Even his eyes seem so different.  
  
"Seeing you like this," Spock says. "Young and – just as you were, in so many ways. That makes me rather nostalgic for the time we had together when we were both young."  
  
Jim says nothing for a moment, and Spock busies himself with his tea.   
  
"I wish I was him," Jim says. "Your Kirk, who knew his father."  
  
He looks up at Spock, who is staring into his tea cup. Jim has suspected that this Spock was in love with him since the mind meld in the cave. But it's not quite him Spock was in love with. There was some other possibility, a better version.   
  
"He was a remarkable man," Spock says. "I regret, sometimes, that I outlived him."  
  
"But I'm glad you're here," Jim says. "I mean. You came and found me tonight."  
  
"So I did." Spock smiles vaguely. "Would you like me to make you a bed?"  
  
Jim helps Spock outfit the living room sofa for sleep and thanks him again before climbing gratefully under the blankets. Spock disappears into a back bedroom, and Jim lies on his back and tries to imagine what Spock is thinking about. Jim belongs here, maybe more than anywhere else on Earth, but he still doesn't quite fit. He can see the reflection of the rain drops on the ceiling, projected there by a street lamp outside. He imagines that it's raining over all of his crew's rooftops, in every city they've dispersed to, and that they're all glad for it, Uhura and Spock cozy in their bed as their baby has a nighttime feeding, Bones and Joanna drinking hot chocolate and watching corny old holiday movies, Sulu and Chekov sleeping with their arms around each other. Even old Spock, back in his bedroom, is probably enjoying some memory of he and his Kirk on a rainy night on Earth like this one.   
  
Jim tries to sleep, but he can't get comfortable on the sofa, and when his PADD beeps from the pocket of his jacket he gets up and goes to the chair he hung it on, by Spock's desk. He fishes the PADD out, hoping for an emergency command from the Admiral, a reason to gather up his crew and go back to space immediately, but the message isn't from Pike.  
  
 _Captain! Where are you? We woke up and you were gone! Hikaru and I are very worried!! He says that it is not likely that you are kidnapped but I know that there are many enemies of the Federation who would like to do such a thing! We are going to put our raincoats on and look around outside for you. Please tell us if you are okay!  
\--Pavel_  
  
Jim laughs to himself and shakes his head. He can imagine Chekov's frantic worry and Sulu trying to calm him down, still half-asleep and a little drunk, blinking with confusion as Chekov pushes his arms into a raincoat.  
  
 _Hey guys,  
  
No need to go walking around in the rain – I'm fine, I just had to move on to my next stop. Sorry I didn't leave a note, I guess I was still pretty out of it when I left. Thanks for the vodka and the hospitality. I'm sober now and I still think you guys are 'SO GREAT,' haha. Remind me to tell you a little something about the two of you in Old Spock's timeline when we get back to the ship. Enjoy the rest of your time off and I'll see you soon,  
Your pal,  
Cpt. Kirk_  
  
He sends the message and sees that he has four other unread messages in his box; he must have received them while he was passed out on Sulu's sofa. The first one is from his mother, which makes him smile.   
  
_Hi Jimmy,  
  
I just had the strangest dream and had to tell you! I was here at work on the ship and you walked into my quarters with your father, both of you laughing and talking as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I of course was hysterical with confusion and relief, hugging him and kissing him and asking him where he had been all this time, and the two of you were so ANNOYED by my reaction, as if I was making too much of a big deal out of him being alive after all! You were such good friends, the two of you, as if you had been together all along and I had somehow just overseen this. The same age, too, ha, while I was twenty-five years older, of course ... anyway, it was a very good dream actually, after I'd thrown my hands up and accepted that I was never going to understand how this had happened, my quarters suddenly turned into the house in Iowa (though we were still on my ship ...) and I made pancakes for the two of you, which was such a thrill in the dream, mixing the batter and remembering to get the butter out so it would get soft, the two of you at the table talking, drinking orange juice ...  
  
I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you and your dad tonight, Jimmy, missing you both very much, and looking forward to seeing you on the Titan station next month for our meet-up. I hope you're having a nice break and finally getting to relax a bit. Send me a message if you get a chance, I'd love to hear from you.   
Love,  
Mom xoxo_  
  
Jim laughs at himself, his eyes a little wet and the desire to press the screen of his PADD to his cheek making him blush. He misses his mom. He wishes he'd had that dream, too, that he had met his mother there for pancakes with his father; whenever he dreams about his father he's always searching for him desperately and almost never finds him, though he has once or twice, and when he does he always knows he's dreaming, but tries to enjoy the reunion anyway.   
  
He wipes at his eyes and reads the next message, which is from Uhura:   
  
_Jim,  
  
I meant it about coming here! Please do. My parents are foaming at the mouth to meet you; they're big fans. You would completely upstage Spock, which I have a feeling you'd enjoy. Don't tell him I said that. Also, Tagok would love to see his godfather. And I'd love to see my friend. Please come.  
~Nyota_  
  
The next message, predictably, is from Spock – Jim's Spock – and Jim laughs out loud as he reads it:  
  
 _Captain,  
  
At Nyota's request I am writing to extend a sincere invitation to join us for the holidays. She believes she detected a tone of subtle despair in your voice when you spoke on the phone, and I am not in the habit of doubting her conclusions when it comes to the nuances of communication, and particularly human communication. Additionally, I would appreciate your company here among her family. My father was not available to join us for this gathering and I must confess that I desire the company of a good friend to serve as an ally, perhaps someone who could help me defend Vulcan customs of childrearing, which have been met with many accusations thus far.   
  
Thank you for your kind consideration of this request.  
  
Spock_  
  
Jim's eyes are wet again, now with laughter that he's trying to keep quiet so that he doesn't wake the other Spock. He'll definitely have to stop by; he can't believe now that he was able to resist the prospect of Spock getting flustered about cultural differences, and he does want to help the poor guy out. If Uhura's parents are truly big fans, Jim's support might actually go a long way toward endearing Spock to them. He's grinning down at the PADD as he opens the last message.  
  
 _Hey –  
  
Old Spock just called me and asked where he could find you. Jim, uh. What the hell's that all about? Just curious.  
  
Well, I hope you're having The Best Christmas Ever with Ensign Jailbait and his chaperone. If you had given me five fucking minutes I could have explained to you that Jo actually wanted to hang out with you. I've talked about you a lot and she'd like to get to know you. You took me off guard a little there but I didn't want you to go.   
  
So if you're craving some cookies and shitty weather, feel free to come back to Atlanta. I'm sitting here on the couch at three in the morning and thinking about how you should be sleeping on it.  
  
L.M._  
  
Jim reads the message about ten times. He thinks of Bones writing it while Jo slept, wondering if he should send it, staring down at his PADD screen in the dark with that look of angry concentration, flour on his cheek.  
  
 _Bones,  
  
Old Spock is not my Secret Lover. I am however crashing on his couch, because Hikaru's couch came with a squealing Ensign Jailbait soundtrack that made sleeping a little difficult. Wish I was on your couch. Will remedy that soon. May have to stop on the way there to defend Young Spock from his mother-in-law. Am thinking the situation is something like the way Uhura would handle it if Tagok grew up and married a Romulan. So you can imagine. Save some cookies for me.   
  
Jim_  
  
Jim leans back on the couch and hugs his PADD to his chest, smiling up at the reflection of the rain that's dribbling down the window. He'll write to his mother, to Uhura and Spock, sleep for a few hours, then thank Spock for having him before heading to the transport station. For now, he just wants to lie still for awhile, his hands closed over the PADD as if all of his friends and family are huddled inside it, because in this brief moment in time it feels as if they are, and he wishes he could always hold them right here, over his heart, like messages sent late at night, things that will find him anywhere, as if across the black of space, and bring him home.  
  



End file.
